


Broken Pots and Cracked Lids

by Kaiyou



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Anal Sex, Analingus, Anxiety Issues, Established Relationship, M/M, Top!Kenma, depression issues
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-16
Updated: 2016-04-16
Packaged: 2018-06-02 12:55:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,342
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6567226
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kaiyou/pseuds/Kaiyou
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Relationships can be hard, especially when both Kenma and Bokuto hit lows at the same time. With a little bit of patience and love, however, they can ride out even the roughest night, and find happiness in a little corner of the world inhabited by only the two of them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Broken Pots and Cracked Lids

**Author's Note:**

  * For [risquetendencies](https://archiveofourown.org/users/risquetendencies/gifts).



> So, I had this half-finished and [@risquetendencies](http://archiveofourown.org/users/risquetendencies/pseuds/risquetendencies) pushed me to finish it and then was kind enough to beta it for me.... enjoy!

Kenma was already on edge when he walked into his apartment. There was mail on the table near the door. He flipped through it as he pulled off his shoes. Bills. Advertisements. A fundraising letter for something he didn’t even know. A letter from his aunt that practically screamed the assumption that he should pay it attention.

He shoved them all away and stalked into the living room.

It was a mistake. He should’ve found another place to chill and calm down from his day. It was a mistake because Bokuto was sitting there, and it only took a half-second glance for Kenma to read the need in the other’s body language.

“Kenma!” Bokuto said, standing and hurdling towards him. 

Kenma took an unconscious step back, all too aware of how Bokuto paused, awkwardly, probably reading his movement as rejection. Which technically it was, but it wasn’t a rejection aimed at Bokuto specifically. 

“Ah, sorry,” Bokuto said, crestfallen.

Words crowded into Kenma’s mouth. Sorry. It’s not you. It’s been a long day. The memory of half a dozen of the irritating things that had happened in the past hour crammed into his mind, but there were too many things to say out loud.

Instead, he just nodded, looking down at Bokuto’s feet as they twitched against the carpet.

This was the hard part about living with Bokuto. It had been easier when he and Kuroo roomed together. Kuroo knew him, knew at a glance when he needed space, when the needs of other people felt like vacuums against his skin.

Bokuto was learning it. There were times when he was even more intuitive about how to respond to Kenma’s moods than Kuroo was, ways he could coax him back into calm. And honestly, both he and Bokuto had grown over the past few years into more mature ways of dealing with their own respective quirks. 

But sometimes, things matched up like they were right now, with Kenma on sensory overload at the same time that Bokuto was fighting one of the lows that made him needy for comfort. It always made Kenma feel awful and inadequate. He wanted to do more, be more, give more. If he was a better, more complete person he’d be able to reach out and hold Bokuto right now, or crawl into his lap so that they could watch nature documentaries until the other’s mood had passed. If he was a normal person, a more well-adjusted person, he could just tell Bokuto what was wrong and why he was upset. 

If he was a normal person, he’d know why all the events of the day had conspired to drive him into this state.

No. If he was a normal person, he probably wouldn’t be upset at all.

“Long day?” Bokuto asked, words heavy with the effort it took to make them.

Kenma nodded, feeling another stab of guilt at the fact that Bokuto had risen above his mood to say something caring. 

“Ok,” Bokuto said. “I’m going to go to my room for a bit.”

Kenma hated the relief that flashed through him at that statement. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to be with Bokuto. He loved him, dearly, deeply, completely. He just had nothing to give right now.

Though he did manage to look up into the other man’s eyes for the briefest of moments, trying to convey his apology without words. The look he got in return was wry and sad, and reminded him again of one of the reasons he’d fallen in love with the taller man. 

Then Bokuto was turning, shuffling off down the hall to his room.

Kenma rushed over to the chair by the window, the one with big, fluffy cushions and threadbare upholstery. He shut off the television and pulled out his laptop, plugging in his headphones and waiting for it to boot up. He heard Bokuto talking in his room. 

He was probably on the phone to Kuroo or Akaashi. Well, probably Kuroo. There were pauses in between his words that indicated that someone else was talking back.

The sense of nagging guilt returned, triggering a replay of one of the last conversations he’d had with Kuroo about this. 

‘It’s not about being normal.’

‘You don't have to try to be everything for him.’

‘Neither one of you are in this alone.’

‘You can only give what you have to give.’

‘He loves you for all of who you are. You feel the same way about him, right?’

The remembered words chastened his worry, effective because he believed them. He knew in his head this mood wouldn’t last. He knew Bokuto had weathered him when he was like this before. It would be ok.

Skin still crawling with oversensitivity he opened up Minecraft and some music, letting himself get lost in the mindless activity. He heard his phone chime a couple times. They were just text messages. They could wait till later.

Building, exploring, digging deeper - all of it melded together as he journeyed from song to song. Light faded in the window behind him as the sun went down. When his playlist stopped he took a breath, assessing himself to see if he needed more time.

The thought of Bokuto curled up in bed tugged at him, and he finally checked his text messages.

Both from Kuroo.

One a heart, and the other a link to a stupid cat video.

He smiled and saved his game, closing down his laptop and going into the kitchen to get a couple glasses of water before texting a stupid face back to Kuroo. He’d get the message.

Carefully he opened the door to their darkened bedroom, creeping in and sitting down on the bed. Bokuto was curled up in a mass of pillows and blankets. It reminded Kenma of a nest. His owl. His Bokuto. 

Setting his glass of water on the bedside table, he turned on the lamp so he could see better. Most of Bokuto’s body was covered by blankets, but one shoulder was bare. It made Kenma smile. He reached out, fingertips carefully tracing over the warm skin. Bokuto jumped but then lifted the blanket he was hiding under, peering out at him.

“Kenma?” he asked, voice hoarse. He’d probably been crying. It physically hurt to think about Bokuto being in here crying alone. 

“Hi,” Kenma said. He held out the glass of water and waited while Bokuto shifted around, sitting up enough so that he could take it. 

“Thank you,” Bokuto said. He hunched over the glass and gulped it down. 

Kenma ran his fingers over the patterns on one of the blankets, tracing the plastic stitching as it curved. There was an arabesque pattern printed on the fabric. It was stiff, scratchy like polyester. He didn’t like the blanket much; Bokuto’s aunt had bought it for him when he was younger though, so he lived with it. He was willing to make all the compromises he could to make Bokuto happy.

He wished he’d been able to be here with him earlier when he was so upset.

“Things happen today?” Bokuto asked.

Kenma shrugged, following a poorly-printed vine as it curled around. “A lot of people in one of my classes. There was some event that crowded the quad as I came home. Lights. Had to go to a lunch and they food they served was weird. I don’t know.”

There was never any good reason, or at least it felt like there was never any good reason. Sometimes he wished he could make his mind behave logically, but it just did what it wanted.

Bokuto just nodded. “I’m sorry,” he said.

Bokuto accepted all of it. Accepted him. He didn’t deserve it. 

‘He loves you for all of who you are.’

He was lucky, lucky beyond all understanding.

“What about you?” Kenma asked softly, sliding a hand over to the mountain in the blanket that covered Bokuto’s leg, tracing the fabric that covered one of his shins.

“Presentation,” Bokuto said. “Team thing. I dropped one of my cards and froze on the last part of my speech. One of my teammates covered for me, but she was angry. Snapped at me afterwards. Well all of us really, asking why she had to do all the work.”

“Ah,” Kenma said. “That was the one on war economics, right? You practiced with me.”

“Yeah! The economics of Japan, pre and post World War II.”

“You spent a lot of time on that.” He really had, Kenma had fallen asleep the past few nights to the light of Bokuto’s laptop as he searched out links.

“It was really interesting! But...”

“What?”

“Pulling it all together was hard,” Bokuto said. “And when we all got together, some of what she’d written was different, and it was just easier to go with what she had. She’s smarter than me anyways.”

“She’s not smarter,” Kenma said automatically.

Bokuto just looked at him. “You don’t even know her.”

“Yeah, but I know you, Bo.”

Kenma earned a small smile for that, and Bokuto reached out for him, pulling him closer. They shifted around until Kenma was seated across his lap, one arm slung behind Bokuto’s neck.

“You’re prejudiced,” Bokuto said softly, hugging Kenma close and nuzzling into his chest.

Huffing out a laugh Kenma said, “You’re telling me that I’m unable to be objective here?”

Bokuto nodded.

Dipping his head to nuzzle the top of Bokuto’s hair Kenma murmured, “You’re one of the smartest people I know. Even more than that, you are probably the most hard-working person I know. You knew what you were talking about. I enjoyed all the little stories you told me while putting the presentation together.”

“Really?” Bokuto said, head jerking up fast enough that he hit Kenma’s chin. “Ah! Sorry.”

Rubbing his chin Kenma made a face at him. “Yes.”

The look Bokuto was giving him was too intense, so he glanced away. He smiled as Bokuto kissed his cheek though, leaning into him. 

“Thank you, Kenma,” Bokuto murmured. 

Kenma nodded. He still felt like he was inadequate at bringing Bokuto back from the edge when he got in these moods. Akaashi was better. Akaashi knew what Bokuto needed without even asking. 

But he was the one Bokuto was in love with, and he was the one in love with Bokuto, even if they still sometimes had trouble fitting together. 

He slid a hand down Bokuto’s arm, interlocking their fingers and listening to the small happy noise Bokuto made when he squeezed. 

“I’m really lucky to have you,” Bokuto said. 

“You are?” Kenma asked, looking up at him.

Bokuto was looking down at their intertwined hands. He nodded, and shrugged. “Yeah,” he said. “I am.”

Bemused, Kenma watched as Bokuto lifted their intertwined hands to his mouth and kissed Kenma’s knuckles. There was a sweetness in the gesture that made his heart clench.

Then Bokuto looked up at him, golden eyes shining out from behind his lashes. They were smiling eyes. The kisses shifted, running down the edge of Kenma’s forefinger. He moved, brushing his fingertip against Bokuto’s lips. Bokuto looked down, tongue flicking out to taste skin.

Was this ok?

Kenma wasn’t sure.

He knew Bokuto was still vulnerable after his mood. The last thing he wanted was to take advantage of him.

Bokuto moved to his thumb, tongue more blatant this time, tracing around the edge as he sucked the end of Kenma’s thumb into his mouth. Kenma’s breath caught as he watched. He hadn’t been in the mood before. He wasn’t sure he was in the mood now, though he might possibly let himself be persuaded.

“Bokuto -” he started.

Humming around his thumb Bokuto pulled off with a pop, turning Kenma’s wrist and kissing it softly. “Very very lucky,” he murmured, little nips making sensation shoot all through Kenma’s body.

Kenma made a little noise and pulled back, shaking his head as Bokuto gave him a worried look. “You’re just greedy,” he said, tugging his shirt off and tossing it into the hamper in the corner of the room.

The look Bokuto gave him was altogether too innocent for what he knew the man was capable of, especially with the way it turned into a leer that devoured the sight of Kenma’s newly-bared skin. It made Kenma smile fondly as he slid his hands down to his pants. Those came off without any ceremony. 

“Move over,” Kenma said. “And rearrange the pillows, right now I’d be cuddling them more than you.”

“Ok - wait - cuddling?”

Lips twitching Kenma said, “Well, naked cuddling. Why, did you want something else?”

Bokuto pouted for a moment, then pulled back the blanket he’d been lying under so Kenma could crawl in next to him. “Not if you don’t want,” he said, and the simple honesty in that statement made Kenma love him all the more.

Kenma nuzzled against Bokuto’s cheek as they lay down, pressing the lengths of their body against each other. A million words bubbled up inside him, but for right now, he just held Bokuto, feeling the strength in his lover’s arms that belied his internal fragility. They were both a little broken inside. Neither of them perfect. 

Kenma had never been a fan of perfect anyways.

Bokuto’s fingers traced patterns over Kenma’s skin, familiar nonsensical things. Maybe letters, maybe volleyball plays, there was no telling. It could be nothing at all. Resting his head against Bokuto’s chest, Kenma smiled, going very still. The fingertips on his skin slowed a bit, becoming more hesitant as if Bokuto was worried Kenma was falling asleep and didn’t want to wake him. Kenma knew his lover was keyed up, though, an aftereffect of coming out of his downward spiral.

Finally Kenma couldn’t help laughing.

Bokuto gasped. “Ah! Kenma! What’s that for?”

Kenma just shook his head, imagining Bokuto’s frown. That frown would shift as Kenma’s hand slid down over his side, digging in at a secret spot.

“Hey hey hey!” Bokuto shouted, instantly squirming away and then retaliating with tickles of his own. Kenma laughed, attacking back just as hard, hands sliding over skin until tickles turned to wrestling and wrestling ended up with Bokuto pinned against the bed with Kenma hovering above him. Somehow they were all the way under one of the blankets and light shown through the red and orange fabric, softening the planes of Bokuto’s chest. 

“Did you let me win?” Kenma asked critically, lips twitching.

Bokuto just shrugged his shoulders, half-heartedly pushing his wrists up against Kenma’s hold as he glanced to the side. His black and grey hair was all messed up from the fight. Kenma’s own hair was probably just as bad. Neither of them cared, though. Neither cared about perfect. 

Leaning forward Kenma kissed Bokuto once, then again, letting go of his wrists to lean properly into the kiss. Bokuto’s arms wrapped around him and pulled him down onto the other man’s chest. This was good. Kissing was good. Bokuto’s touches were good. It was oh so different than being touched by almost anyone else. Kuroo had always said that he was like a cat that most people pet backwards. Bokuto always knew how to pet him the right way.

Kenma knew just how to return the favor.

Ignoring the whine when he broke the kiss Kenma moved, lips sucking at the side of Bokuto’s neck. 

“Kenma,” Bokuto moaned, the vaguest hint of accusation underneath the pleasure in his voice.

“Hmm?” Kenma murmured, moving further down, nipping at Bokuto’s collarbone. He shifted his hands down to hold Bokuto’s chest, fingers curling again into his ribcage as he kissed down and over his skin. He felt the rumble of Bokuto’s laugh under his mouth. 

“Kenma!” Bokuto said, laughter turning into a hiss as Kenma sucked hard at a nipple.

“Words, Bo. You have to use your words,” Kenma said, all vestiges of his prior mood wiped away by the sheer unadulterated joy of this little world they shared under the blanket.

“Ah! I wanna...” Bokuto started.

The pause after that was enough to make Kenma lift his head and look at Bokuto inquiringly. “Yes?”

There was a faint blush on Bokuto’s cheeks. He glanced down Kenma’s body, then up to his mouth. 

Kenma raised an eyebrow, waiting for Bokuto to spit it out. The silence stretched out long enough that Kenma leaned closer, studying Bokuto’s features. “What?”

“Um, can you use your mouth on me?”

That was, in a nutshell, what he’d been planning on doing. What he had been doing. None of that accounted for Bokuto’s hesitance, though - oh.

Knowledge clicked inside Kenma and he felt things shift and rearrange, aligning himself to Bokuto’s desires.

Smiling, Kenma kissed Bokuto softly, tongue flicking out to trace his lips. Bokuto opened his mouth and Kenma sucked at his bottom lip, moving a hand to hold his jaw as he licked around the edges of his lover’s mouth. The way Bokuto responded told him he was right, all shaky breaths and fingers curling at Kenma’s skin.

Pulling back, Kenma said, “Just my mouth?”

Bokuto’s smile was almost coyly happy. 

Chuckling softly, Kenma patted his hip and then slid out from under the blanket. 

“Hey, where are you going?”

“Just want to be prepared,” Kenma murmured, grabbing a bottle from their bedside table before kneeling on the bed and pulling the cover back up over his head. “Turn over.”

“So lucky,” Bokuto murmured, turning over and pulling a couple of pillows under his stomach before he lay down.

Kenma smiled, kneeling between Bokuto’s legs. The other man was humming softly, skin almost vibrating with excitement. Kenma loved him, loved him so much he almost said so.

Instead he rested his hands on Bokuto's lower back and rubbed upwards, feeling all the incredible muscles shift and move before sliding his hands back down to Bokuto’s ass. Shivering, Bokuto glanced back at him, a faint whine of need in his voice.

“Kenma,” he muttered, ass muscles tightening up. 

Chuckling, Kenma slapped his ass lightly before moving in, tongue licking softly across Bokuto’s asshole.

The other man jumped a bit, unabashed moans spilling from his mouth as Kenma continued. It was musky and slick, muscle tight against the pressure of his tongue. To Kenma, this act was always more interesting than inherently sexy. He did love Bokuto’s ass, loved touching it, feeling it, being inside it. The thing he liked most about tasting it, however, was the way Bokuto responded.

He moved, pressing back against Kenma’s tongue as hard as he could, asshole fluttering in response to every lick. The sounds he made, the way words just spilled out of his mouth with no meaning, all of that was delicious. Kenma could feel the utter trust Bokuto placed in him by asking him to do this, letting him suck and thrust his tongue as deep as it could go. It was a heady feeling. 

Only for Bokuto would he do this, but Bokuto was more than enough.

Kenma slid a hand up to stroke Bokuto’s cock, finger teasing at the precum dribbling out from the tip. Bokuto whined, bucking into his hand, making a chittering little complaint when the hand moved back. Complaints turned into moans as Kenma pressed a finger deep into Bokuto’s ass. He licked around the finger, tongue tracing the slick flesh stretched around it as he pulled back out. Bokuto’s words were becoming a mixture of “more” and “please” and Kenma was all too happy to satisfy.

It didn’t take long for Bokuto to be ready for a second finger. These Kenma twisted, curling and dragging his fingertips along the front wall of Bokuto’s ass, rubbing back and forth until Bokuto’s whines turned insistent. Feeling a bit smug Kenma wiggled his fingertips back and forth before pulling out entirely.

That made Bokuto’s asscheeks tense up again, bouncing and whining even though Kenma was kissing him again, tongue tracing over the hole that had just been invaded by his fingers. He used the time to open the bottle of lube and get his fingers nice and slick. 

The sound Bokuto made when he pressed back in was priceless. Kenma pulled his head back to watch. He loved watching this, loved watching as his fingers disappeared deep into his lover’s ass. He added another finger, pushing in as deep as he could and twisting them around, drinking in the sounds that spilled from Bokuto’s mouth with every move. 

Bokuto had once told him he loved his hands.

This was one reason.

“Please, Kenma,” Bokuto said. “Please.”

“What?” Kenma asked, pulling his fingers almost all the way out and pulling at the rim of Bokuto’s asshole.

“Please! In me...”

Thrusting his fingers back in Kenma just hummed in reply, pushing in deep with short, jerky movements and watching as Bokuto’s hips shuddered in response.

“Please, fuck, more, I want more.”

“More fingers?” Kenma teased.

“Kenma! Fuck me, please, I want your cock.”

It was too demanding to be a beg, but Kenma didn’t really want to be begged anyways. Not tonight. Tonight, he just wanted Bokuto.

Pulling his fingers out he spilled more lube onto them and slicked up his cock, hissing at the chill. “How?” he asked.

In response, Bokuto just lifted up his ass, wiggling it in a way that made Kenma want to curse. 

“Love you Bo,” he muttered, then shifted and lined himself up before slowly pushing inside.

Here, this, fuck, this was heaven. Bokuto’s ass was tight and hot and slick and perfect around his cock. Bokuto moaned, one hand sliding around to rest in the middle of his back. Kenma reached forward and curled their fingers together, free hand holding Bokuto’s hip as he slid all the way home.

Bokuto squeezed, fucking squeezed, and it took all that Kenma had not to start pounding into that wet heat. Instead he waited until the hand that held his own curled more tightly around his fingers, then pulled back, thrusting in slow and deep.

“Thank you,” Bouto moaned. “Fuck, Kenma. Lucky, so lucky, your cock... fuck....”

Bokuto’s noises were like music accompanied by the squelching sound of their bodies moving in perfect concert. He was beautiful, back shining with perspiration from their exertion and the heat of being trapped under the blanket. It was too hot. Everything was too hot. For once, Kenma didn’t mind.

It was all just too good.

The sounds that they made together, the feeling of Bokuto’s ass tight around him and his body pressing back, the sight of his back curved with pleasure, the smell of sex and vanilla lube, hell, even the taste of musk still on Kenma’s lips - all of it was overwhelming, all of it was good. It was good because it was all him. It was all Bokuto. It was all them together, and Kenma didn’t want anything else in the world.

This, this space between them, should be the world.

For a few moments, at least, it was.

Bokuto squeezed his hand again and Kenma let go, shifting to lean over Bokuto’s back and press soft kisses to sweat-stained skin. He moved faster, hearing Bokuto’s cries grow louder and higher in pitch. Bokuto was muscle and motion and joy and pleasure all wrapped up in a package Kenma loved. It was such a heady feeling, knowing that he was the one making Bokuto cry out like this, he was the one Bokuto called for, he was the one Bokuto wanted. It made Kenma feel complete, because Bokuto was all he wanted as well. In this moment, as broken as they sometimes were, they fit together perfectly.

Kenma could tell Bokuto was getting close by the way his hips stuttered, hand sliding down around the pillows to fist his own cock. Kenma picked up the pace, using the leverage of his grasp on Bokuto’s hip and shoulder to drive home faster, harder, reveling in the noises he got in response.

“Love you Bo,” he muttered against Bokuto’s back. “You’re so wonderful, my Bokuto, my Bo, love you so much.”

Kenma grit his teeth as Bokuto tightened in response, muscles tensing as he stopped moving his hips. For a long moment Bokuto’s hand was the only part of him in motion, moving at breakneck speed over his hard cock. Kenma kept thrusting, biting his bottom lip at the vice-like grip of Bokuto’s ass as he reached his peak, spilling over into his hand with a long low cry. 

Pulling out, Kenma slipped one hand from Bokuto’s hip to his cock, pushing up so that he could look down and watch his lover’s back and ass as he pulled himself closer and closer to his own orgasm. Perfect. Everything about Bokuto in this moment was perfect. Perfect because it was them, because of the way his muscles shifted under his skin, because of the sheer beauty of the way Kenma’s cum arced through the air and landed on his back, covering the other man’s skin.

Beautiful.

Laughing softly Kenma collapsed beside Bokuto, one hand sliding idly through the mess he’d made.

Bokuto grumbled for a moment then turned and pulled Kenma into a kiss, holding him close and murmuring small words of praise.

Kenma responded to the kisses, nuzzling closer and trying to imprint this moment in his mind.

Soon, they’d have to get up. Change the blanket. Kick these pillows to the ground and use others. Shower and get clean. Maybe make out some more in the shower. Maybe more.

For now, though, Kenma was content to just lie here with his lover, snuggling closer and reveling in the way they fit together. It was a journey. Would still be a journey. A journey filled with imperfections and inability and hurt feelings and misunderstandings. A journey filled with good morning kisses and sleepy cuddles and laughter and tickle fights and moments of overwhelming passion. It was their journey, and they were still making it, but they were making it together.

It was good.

**Author's Note:**

> Comments are my lifeblood.
> 
> Please feel free to come follow/talk/yell at me on tumblr [@kaiyouchan](http://kaiyouchan.tumblr.com/)!


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